Raven
by Depp1987
Summary: For all you Greg/Mycroft fans out there! sherlock/Mycroft brotherly love! Central theme surrounds if mycroft had a lover he broke up with @ Uni :-) his name is Alistair (the only British name I know :). DON LIKE DON'T READ!
1. Sick

**Raven**

Sherlock leaned against his Watson, holding onto the doctor close, safe. They were back, together again.

"John… I don't feel well," came the whipped from the consulting detective. John nodded, running a hand through Sherlocks raven curls. Mycroft joined them, an arm finding its way around his younger sibling.

"My, somethings wrong…" Mycroft tried in vain to hide the panic in his face, nodding to John.

"OK… Let me see what we have here," gently he sat Sherlock on the ground of the runway, looking him over. Gently, without pressure John looked his friend over, touching softly, God he hoped he wasn't hurting him. Sherlock for his part leaned into Mycroft's chest, trying to fight the dizziness coming to him.

"Its just the flu, right?" Sherlock forced himself up, trying to regain balance. Bad idea, he sagged against Mycroft again. John remained neutral, and flashed a look at Mycroft, mouthing 'We need to go to the hospital'.

/

"Its th flu, right?"

"No, no, love its not…" John whispered, putting a had to his lower abdomen.

"OK… What then?" Sherlock tried to sound tough, but his head was killing him and his insides felt like a five alarm fire.

"Just hang in there, everythings OK…" John tried to sty calm, but he knew they might end up in an operating room, again.

Mary, Anderson, Lestrade, and Donnovan were all waiting at the rooftop. Lestrde attempted to stay cam for his partner's sake, Mycroft was his whole world.

"Give him fluids, and a CT scan of the lower abdomen. I suspevt appendicitis but we have to be sure," everyone followed John except for Mycroft who, without even Lestrade seeing slipped away, an ocean of tears streaming onto his satin suite.


	2. Skin

**Skin **

Mycroft sobbed, sitting on the floor of the dark closet. His baby brother, his Sherlock… Oh dear God!

"My… God, what have I done to my beloved Sherlock…" he sobbed into his jacket, wet from tears. The door opened and the light pooled in, Greg stood there.

"Shhh, My he's going to be fine.." Greg sat down on the floor and took his partner in his arms, not wanting his beloved Mycroft to sob all alone.

"He'll be fine, he's…" they were both snapped awake by the voice that Mycroft only heard as a three year old Sherlock.

"Mycoft…" the British Government got to his feet, and ran down the hall with Donovan and Greg at his heels.

"Shhhh, shhhh, love I'm right here…" not caring what anyone thought, he slide into bed with his Sherlock. Mycroft held the trembling little one to him. Sherlock merely buried his face in his shirt and sobbed.

"Shhhh, tis alright my Sherlock.. I have you, shhhh, shhh," John appeared in the door, holding a scan in one hand. Mycroft had himself wrapped in Sherlock, like no one else would touch him.

"Mycroft… I have to get him to the OR.." John whispered, the elder looked up, tears streaming down his face. He grabbed Sherlock's hand as they walked down the hallway.

"My…" Mycroft stopped and grabbed his little brother.

"Shhhh, you're OK, love. John will fix you up and everything will be alright, I promise.."

"Moriarty…"

"Shhhh, we know, I have people on it now, shhhh,,, My little Sherlock," Mycroft's tears started again as he felt the small, weak kiss on his cheek.

"I love you, baba,,, I'll be right here when its all done.." John nodded and he went the rest of the way, with his best friend's life in his hands. Mycroft leaned against the wall and sobbed.


	3. Mycroft's Wrath

**Mycroft's Wrath **

The British Government stormed down the hallway apparently in a trance, he had tunnel vision as he went out to get a cab.

"Where are you going?"

"Greg, I'll be back, don't follow me," Lestrade nodded, shutting the door to the taxi. Where the hell was Mye going with Sherlock in surgery?

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Mycroft told the driver the address and looked at his phone, texting Anthea. No one fucked with his Sherlock without going through him first and they never would.

"I'll be a minute," he informed the driver, throwing him an extra few pounds for the trouble.

"Im here to see Lady Smallwood," without even caring what the woman at the desk said, he went into her office.

"What would possess you to put my brother in with a case of one of the most dangerous men in England?" his question was direct, and almost icy. Mummy said never hit woman but there were exceptions..

"I needed those letters back, Mr. Holmes," OK, now she was asking for it. He was fighting the pulsing veins in his neck from popping out.

"_My brother, is an addict with sociopathic behavior. He cannot contain himself when some gives him a case. Were you not aware of that?!_" he wasn't sure if he was screaming but his voice sounded scary, even to him.

"He is not your responsibility-" Mycroft slammed the desk, hard. Leaning over, got right in her face, now this was asking for it.

"My Sherlock is certainly my bloody fucking business, he is all I have and I am all he has. We were not the most, social of children; I will always protect him with everything at my disposal. Even if that means from now on I screen his cases, _personally_." With that he stormed out of her office slamming the door.

)

Outside, Mycroft walked back to Barts, he got on his phone and texted Anthea. He was never so livid in his life. He didn't even notice he passed the hospital until he reached the corner.


	4. Mycroft's Baby

**Mycroft's Baby**

Mycroft slept on Greg's shoulder as they waited for the team to exit the OR. Greg wrapped his partner in a blanket and held him close; poor thing had gone through so much.

"Greg…" he looked up and saw John standing there. He shook Mycroft gently.

"We're all done and…"

"Can I see him?" Mycroft stood up and went to go towards the recovery room. John nodded and led the way.

?

"Can… Can I hold him?"

"Sure, love," Greg whispered, John nodded and gently minding the IV Mycroft lifted Sherlock into his arms and sat in the reclining chair by the bed. He wanted to make sure Sherlock was the first thing he saw when he woke up.

"My…" Sherlock said in a raspy voice, his throat sore from the breathing tube. Mycroft put their foreheads together, and starting singing softly in Sherlock's ear.

"Hush little baby don't say a word/Mycroft's gonna buy you a mocking bird…" John watched, happy tears running down his face. Mycroft's rocking and lullaby soothing his baby, his Sherlock.

"Come here you," Greg smiled, pulling John into a hug. This little family had been through so much. John was exhausted but all in all, he had saved his friend's life.

**OOOoooOoOOOoooO**

Mycroft sat with his baby brother in his arms for what seemed like hours, cuddling him, loving him, and just enjoying the silence.

At around 2 AM John had his friend moved to the ICU, so it would be more private for everyone.

"Hey Love," John whispered, leaning in close to Sherlock's face, as the consulting detective opened his eyes.

"Hu..rrr..tttt…" John nodded, increasing the morphine, so his beloved Sherlock could sleep soundly.

"See if you can get a bit of porridge into him, My.." Greg whispered, Mycroft nodded.

"Come on you, there we go…" like when he was first put on solid food, Mycroft remembered the feeding of his baby brother. History was repeating itself. Sherlock in his puppy like state of sleep began to lick the spoon. Mycroft gave a soft chuckle, and kissed him on the forehead.

"Mycrft's baby…" his murmured sleepily, the British Government looked at the ceiling, and tears came to his eyes. John glaned at Lystrade, he had tears in his eyes.

"Yes… yes, my Sherlock," he reached for his little brother, Sherlock resting his head in the crook of Mycroft's arm. John moved to the brothers and pulled the bed rail down, nodding to his soon to be brother in law; Mycroft got in, still cradling Sherlock.

/

"Mycroft's _baby_…" John said, in a complete state of shock. Greg nodded, they were sharing a candy bar.

"He's all he had John, why do you think he looks after him so? Never lets anyone else in, that's why they have no friends, Mycroft wont let him near anyone, except you,"

"He makes it sound so bad…"

"No, he's fighting with himself, all he really wants is what he has right now, he wants big brother's attention. Now he has it, that feud is a façade, all Mycroft does is take care of him, look after him, and love him." John nodded, he knew the DI was telling the truth.

"Go gte some sleep, I'll look after Thing one and Thing 2," John smiled, he knew their friend was exhausted.

"Go crash yourself," John grinned, he should probably take his own advice.


	5. Night Time Cuddles

**Night Time Cuddles**

Sherlock awoke to warm water running over him, sponge he guessed. Things were a little groggy still from the anesthesia but his throat hurt less. It was probably late by now. A soft hand made its way over his cheek, so warm.

"There's my sleep head," Mycroft whispered, he had his sleeping trousers on with a t shirt and his bath robe.

"My…"

"Shhhh, shhhhh, just rest Love, John is sleeping in an on call bunk and I sent Greg home to our flat," Mycroft went to work, bathing his baby brother. The warm sponge gliding over Sherlock's plagued skin, like ballerina dancing.

Next Mycroft checked all the IV lines and heart monitors keeping his baby brother alive. He knew all the alarms and things. As he bathed him, Sherlock was somewhere between asleep and awake, he was savoring this, for a special place in his mind palace. He unfortunately had to wash his hair a plastic wash basin, much to Mycroft's annoyance. These things can be so unsanitary.

"Feel good, baba?"

"Hhhhmmmm," Sherlock whispered, no one washed his hair like his big brother.

/

After stealing a pair of gloves from the shelf in the hallway, Mycroft checked the urinary catheter. John had made him leave it in for monitoring Sherlock's electrolytes, Mycroft knew they could end up with a staph infection just being here. He knew Sherlock wouldn't dare let some stranger do this, it was too personal; better the one who changed his diapers and fed him at two in the morning.

"Sweetheart can you keep some tea and honey down?" he whispered, he hated to wake him like this. '

"Uggghhhh…" Sherlock gave a low moan. Mycroft put a hand on his forehead soothingly.

"Please, baba just a smidge?" Sherlocks head rested in the crook of his elbow and he gently spooned a bit with his other hand.

"The same day…"

"What baba, what did you say, Love?" Mycroft whispered. Sherlock made a bad attempt to shift in his arms, Mycroft shushed him; trying to keep him still.

"You…. Said we'd die on the same day…" Mycroft smiled.

"Yes… So we both wouldn't be alone," he kissed Sherlock's forehead.

"Come on then, little more, thts it," Mycroft spooned more tea into his mouth, the British Government was enjoying _this_. Definitely _enjoying this. _


	6. Mycroft Explains Raven

**Mycroft Explains Raven **

The British Government slept on his baby brother's hospital bed, arms wrapped around Sherlock as if he were a present from Father Christmas. Greg watched silently from the hallway, holding a cup of tea.

"My…" gently he whispered as not to startle his husband.

"Greg…" he sat up shocked, thinking Sherlock was ill. The DI put a hand on hi shoulder to sooth him, Sherlock slept in oblivion.

"He's still asleep,"

"Had him awake to eat around three, gave him sponge bath, and some cuddles.. he'll be out for a bit more." Mycroft kissed his Sherlock on the forehead.

"Who's Raven?" Greg asked softly. Mycroft looked up, staring into the distance.

"a song that Elvis's daughter wrote about her mummy, they had a horrific relationship till recently. Ravens, are beautiful and strong, and-"

"Sherlock," Greg finished smiling. Mycroft nodded, grinning down at his baby brother. Greg put a gentle hand on Sherlock's forehead.

"And everything til now wasn't that bad really/beautiful baby," Mycroft crooned softly into Sherlock's ear. The soft grey eyes opened slowly and grinned at Mycroft, a free hand reaching for his big brother.

"Hey you," Greg whispered, gently sitting on the other side of the bed stroking Sherlock's raven locks.

"Anything?" he asked softly.

"No love, not yet. We're working on it though, will have loads when you get better and can join in the fun," the DI grinned, he missed his crazy sidekick. Mycroft, always the watchful brother saw his baby brother getting sleepy.

"Sweetheart, would you like to rest," Mycroft received a nod.

"Yes… Alright, love," his brother whispered back. Greg sowed himself out, letting the par have time alone.

Mycroft rested a bit her and there, gave Sherlock another bath, and fed him some more tea from a spoon. The light snow had begun to fall over the city. He watched it and held Sherlock's hand, poor thing was drained.

"As the raven fies/he feels unwelcome/caught on a tree with silver lining/his wings uncertain he's still flying/yeah little raven I see you there…" Sherlock's eyes snapped open, Mycroft saw he had his audience and gently crooned into his ear. Not even John knew Sherlock's lullaby.


	7. Mycroft's Entourage

**Mycroft's Entourage **

Sherlock awoke to an airy room, with flowers in a small vase, the sun was lightly shining over the horizon; must be early evening. On either side of him stood Donovan and Anderson.

"My wants you protected," Anderson informed.

"Where's George?"

"Catching up on the files on Moriarty and getting Mycroft some supper," he insisted you have members of the yard guard you at all times.

"Good idea, can't get shot again," he was suddenly so thirsty. Anderson saw this. He lifted the glass to Sherlock's mouth, and helped the detective drink.

"Better?" Sherlock gave a small smile. The pair sat with him, keeping him company, and watching over him; Mycroft's orders.

"We'd be lost without you, freak," he grinned this time, he would be lost without having them to torture.

"You won't have to be," he replied softly. Anderson grinned back at him opening a pudding pack, vanilla. Mycroft again. Sherlock grinned, only the best and most efficient from brother dear.

"You in any pain?" Anderson asked leaning back against the recliner.

"No… just want to get back out there," Sherlock said honestly, taking a bit of pudding.

"We cant do this without you," Sally whispered, Anderson nodded. They had taken the genius for granted all this time.

"I know, I was just having a bit of fun with you, I wouldn't be where I am without my brother in-law." He was suddenly very tired. Anderson took the half eaten pudding and drew the shades closed

**)))))))))))))))))))))**

_ Sherlock knelt on the ground as the helicopter landed. He knew what he did and why. Mycroft got out, John slowly moved towards his friend. Sherlock turned and glared at him._

_ "GET AWAY FROM ME!" he growled, John nodded and remained still. Mycroft nodded and they both slowly went to him, Sherlock secretly hoped they'd crash into a mountain. _

_ "Sher-"_

_ "John, shut up," Sherlock knew he was dead and hearing pestering didn't help the matter._

_ "Sherlock," Mycroft tried, but Sherlock spun around to face him._

_ "You got what you wanted, I'm dead meat. No longer a burden to you," Mycroft felt his skin dread, his stomach turned to ice._

_ "Oh Sherlock," tears brimmed his older brother's eyes. Sherlock said nothing, he wondered if killing himself would be easier than dealing with this. _

_ They flew back to London in silence, Mycroft desperately texting Anthea, the PM, anyone; he was never so terrified in his life. _

_ Once they landed at Mycroft's estate, the numbness started to wear off. His whole body began to tremble, and he felt like he was going to faint; with no adrenaline he felt the pain of what happened hit him. He ran from the helicopter, John stunned Mycroft took off after him._

_ "SHERLOCK!" he knew this was bad, now he was gone. God knows what he would do to himself. Mycroft searched every room, and then heard soft sobs under the bed. The British Government felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. He got down on his hands and knees, and pulled the duvet up, a shaking Sherlock was under the bed. He looked like an animal that had been struck by a car. A faucet broke out in Mycroft's eyes, he held open his arms for his baby brother. _

_ "Come on then, Sherly, come on, come to me," he shook his head no, backing away further. _

_ "Come on, that's a good boy," he felt like he was talking to a child now, but who cared. Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut, more tears. Mycroft played his final card; reaching under the bed, he grabbed Sherlock's hands and gently pulled him out from under the bed, the exhaustion from everything made it impossible for the little one to fight back, so he just screamed. With every ounce of strength he had, Mycroft held him tight._

_ "Shhhh, shhhhhh, stop… Shhhh, I have you," he started thrashing now, like a bird trying to break free. _

_ "Sherly, shhhhh, shhhh, listen to me; everything will be OK, I promise, everything will be OK… Sherlock, listen to me, listen to Mycroft, baby brother please," _

_ "They're going to get me…. You're going to let them get me…" _

_ "Who… Sherlock, whose going to get you?! Shhhh, shhhh, no I'd never let anyone get you, baba… I promise you, hush now," Mycroft had to think fast, before something terrible happened. He started rocking him, just like when he was a toddler, and began their special lullaby. He hadn't sang it to him in years._

_ "as the raven flies he feels unwelcome/caught on a tree with silver ling/ wings uncertain he's still flying," Mycroft knew the lullaby by heart, he had been desperate to quiet Sherlock down one night during a crying fit and this having heard it knew it was their relationship. _

_ "You're fine, you're fine," slowly the struggling stopped and a teary eyed baby brother looked up at him._

_ "My…" Mycroft nodded, he carried Sherlock to the bathroom, and gently undressed him; this was the other thing that calmed him down. He tried to put him down, Sherlock was having none of it. _

_ "OK.. OK, shhhh, shhhh, OK…" Mycroft whispered, he sat on the counter, and undressed his baby brother gently, kissing him gently on the forehead. Once he was in the bath, Mycroft went to work, gently, soothing him and loving him. _

_ "Remind me never to be near you with a moving car, you'll jump in front of it." Mycroft said running a flannel over his face. _

_ "Get Lestrade," he whispered, just then the DI and Mycroft's boyfriend entered. He looked at his friend and tears came to his eyes. He got down on his knees and ran a hand over Sherlock's hair._

_ "No one takes you away from us without a fight, promise." Sherlock nodded, he knew he was right. Lestrade had never lost hope in the detective, ever. He handed Mycroft a towel and the British Government lifted his baby brother out of the bath, he carried Sherlock into the bedroom and lay them both down. He had all Sherlock's favorites: his teddy, a picture of Redbeard, and a secret weapon, John's gloves. He slipped into bed with his little brother, and just held him. _

**OOooOOooooOOOooo**

"Shhhhhh, baba shhhhh," Mycroft cradled his baby brother in his arms. Sherlock having a small fit, he nodded to John for more morphine.

"Come on Love, come on then, we're going home.." he pulled Sherlock IV out as gently as possible, minding the heart monitors, and dressed him in clean sleepwear and Sherlock's favorite dressing gown, the red one with the stripes.

"Come on then, home it is…" Sherlock was dead asleep in Mycroft's arms, the British Government had a car waiting downstairs.

"Come on, Lovie.. That's it there we go," he did the seatbelt up around himself with Sherlock perched on his lap sideways.


	8. Mycroft's Surprise

**Mycroft's Surprise**

Mycroft awoke with a start as the sleeping baby brother next to him, fretfully thrashed about in bed. Mycroft held him gently, hoping he wouldn't rip his stitches.

"Shhhh, baba shhhhh, I'm here, I'm here…"

"My it's coming to get me… Don't let it get me…" Mycroft tightened his hold around his Sherlock.

"No… Baba, no one is going to get you, I won't allow it… Shhhh, hush my little Sherlock, shhhh, I'm here, I'm here…" typing into his phone with his other hand he texted John and few others.

"Come now, let's have tea while we're up with the chickens shall we," he put Sherlock on his chest and held a syringe with the other hand, plunging the liquid into his mouth. This was going to be a long day. He hated post-surgical.

)))))))))))))))))))))

John came into the study, and sat down. Mycroft came in wearing his sleepwear, and a bath robe, coffee in hand.

"I think I am going to need full round of preventatives, John.. Hospitals are very disgusting, and give Sherlock and antibiotic for would you?" John nodded, heading towards the door when it opened suddenly. Mycroft looked up, in shock.

If this is some kind of illusion I am checking myself in to Nightingale he thought. Standing there was his former boyfriend from University.

"My, what the hell is going on, what have you done to the damn foyer, and why are you in pajamas?" he grinned, striding over, holding hand out to John.

"Hi! I'm Alistair, Mycs former fling from Cambridge," he smiled widely. John nodded, he felt his legs go numb in shock. Mycroft's _what!_


	9. cray Cray

**Mycroft, Sherlock and the Cray, Cray Manor**

Mycroft leaned against the wall, and tried to breathe. He had not seen Alistair in five years, the man was a work-aholic lunatic that My had no time for.

"Oy! Myc wears the baby," Mycroft snapped up and loped down the corridor.

"Napping, he has been through a lot and…"

"Sherly, what'd you do ta yourself,"

"Perfect, now if Greg comes home early I am digging myself a hole in the garden," he went into Sherlock's room, ex bau sitting on the bed and laughing and smiling with Sherlock.

"Baba, would you like mummy's soap?" Mycroft whispered gently putting a hand on his cheek.

"Why, so you can go change into your formals so you don't look like a drab for your ex," Sherlock grinned.

"I will take that as a yes," he shook his head.

))))))))))))))))))))))))))

"I'm glad your home," Sherlock said softly, Alistair ran a hand over his forehead.

"I know, love."

"No, honestly, he needs you," the detective's eyes met his.

"I know, when mummy told me what was in the newspapers, I got on the first jet out of Glasgow,"

"Good," Sherlock leaned back against the pillows as Mycroft's ex felt his pulse.

"I couldn't marry him Sherly, one it was illegal back then, and he and I were too bloody perfect. We were both work obsessed, driven, and I knew his only love was you."

"I know that,"

(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

"He needs help, Myc,"

"I know that, I am very aware of what my Sherlock needs,"

"Good then let me treat him, so the PM doesn't think he's some killer,"

"I want to-"

"Good, 'll start tonight after everyone's turned in,"

"I will be sitting in, Alistair no complaints about that; he has a neurological condition,"

"Neuro psychiatric, Myc," Mycroft rolled his eyes, and tapped his umbrella against the ground.


	10. Sherlocks Collapse

**Sherlock's Collapse**

Mycroft was in his study, John was in the sitting room, and the new house guest was flipping through Sherlock's file when all of a sudden there was a loud thud.

Mycroft got to the room first, followed by the others at his heels. He ran to the bathroom, and saw the water running, and Sherlock sprawled out on the floor.

"Oh God… Baba what happened?! Oh God, why didn't you call for me…" Mycroft scooped him up, and sat them on the bed, John rushing to check the stitches.

"Thought I was fine… been a few days," Sherlock was horrified, but he was too tired to care.

"Shhhh, its alright, my Sherlock I am here now, shhhhhh, I am here," he started rocking them, like when Sherlock was a baby. Sherlock merely buried his face in Myc's chest, his cheeks flushed and hot with embarrassment.

)))))))))))

"John take my pulse, I think I had a mini heart attack," Mycroft leaned against the wall, breathing hard.

"I know, God I know," Mycroft was truly terrified and that never happened.

"Go read him the bunny story, let him know it's all OK," Mycroft felt Alistair's hand on his shoulder.

"I know… God, he could have had a head injury… Jesus," they stayed back, giving the siblings much needed time alone.

Mycroft sat on the bed softly, book in hand. He gently climbed over to the other side, and took Sherlock in his strong arms.

"Sherlock, Sherlock what's my name?"

"Mycroft this is stupid-"

"Where do you live?"

"My, seriously, stop I didn't hit my head… Stop this isn't you,"

"Once upon a time there was a little bunny who lived with his mother…" Mycroft opened the book and began to read.


	11. Sleep My Little One

**Sleep My Little One **

Mycroft snapped up in bed, Sherlock resting on his chest, thumb in his mouth. A soft hand on his cheek made him calm again.

"Myc shhhh, he's OK, shhhhh, go back to sleep, John just wanted to check vitals overnight."

" Shhhh," Alistair repeated, running a hand over his face soothingly.

"I… I…" Mycroft gasped, the psychologist gently kissed him on the forehead, non-sexual, lovingly.

"I knew it would come to this, Mycroft.. He is everything and more, I cannot bare to see this continue; you are all he has, this could break him,"

"Rub my head,"

"Of course, love," Mycroft lay back, and enjoyed the soothingness of his former lover.

"Greg will hate me,"

"No, he only wants you to be looked after; I'm happy that you found someone to distract you, you've been through so damn much,"

"Alistair don't start now,"

"Mycroft listen, its nothing to be embarrassed about.. I didn't say anything, but he needs to know as your husband," the psychologist kept his voice soft, if only they had been polar opposites.

"Mikey…" they turned and Sherlock opened his eyes sleepily smiling at his big brother, snuggling into Mycroft's arms.

"Good morning, you," Sherlock grinned as the ahrink tickled him under the chin.

"Baba, why not go see if Anthea brought me the sugar shaker, I left it at mummy's," Mycroft hoped this would be a good distraction.

"Good move,"

"He's less wobbly then last week,"

"Go eat,"

"No,"

"Yes, I am still your therapist Mycroft; doesn't matter how old you are," the British Government rolled his eyes.

"Mikey, the shaker's in the cupboard," Sherlock laned against the door, looking like he was eleven again when Alistair and Mycroft had first gotten together.

"Thank you, baba.. Now come cuddle with me, I'm cold," Mycroft gave a soft grin.

"Kay," God Mycroft was lost in fantasy land all over again. The feet pattered on the floor, climbing up onto the bed.

"Mycroft you need to tell him-"

"Tell me what?" Greg appears in the door with Mycroft's favorite flowers and Sherlock's scarf.

"Nothing-"

"You pcked up my scarf," Sherlock smiles for the forst time in nearly 2 weeks.

"You're attached to this bloody thing, didn't want it to walk off," he hands him the scarf, kisses Mycroft on the head, and proceeds to put the flowers in a vase, filling it with water from the bathroom sink.

"Tell me what Mycroft," Greg asked putting the vase on the bed side table. Greg sat on the other side of the bed, next to his partner.

"We need to talk, Greg…" Mycroft whispered, tears in his eyes. He looked down, as Sherlock snuggled closer, nuzzling his night shirt.


	12. Too Early To Be Out

**Too Early To Be Out**

"Too early… Baba, its too soon, please reconsider…" Mycroft held Sherlock's arm, as they rode t the crime scene.

"No… Myc I NEED it!" Sherlock whispered, like a dog starving for food.

They pulled into an abandoned building, yellow tape, police cars, and a scared witness. Mycroft texted his former sling that they might need help.

"Shall we?" Sherlock jerked his mind out of its thoughts. Mycroft nodded, and they went to meet up with Lestrade.

"Am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea…" Mycroft whispered, Greg squeezed his hand gently in support.

Sherlock strode ito the building, everything normal. He moved the top of the stairs, his brain starting off slow and then getting faster and faster. Mycroft and Lestrade came in with John following, Mycroft knew what would happen next, the writing was on the wall, he had been through too much.

"The killer… the killer came in through an upstairs window, from the roof and then… then…" they were coming in faster than he had ever seen them, the words were overlapping one after the other; Sherlock couldn't control himself, he held his eyes shut trying to slow his mind down but it refused.

"Sherlock… Sherly its OK…" Mycroft took a step towards him, gently pulling his hands down, but the next minute Sherlock broke into a fit, collapsing and starting to tremble.

"Shhhhshhhh, I'm here.. I am here my Sherlock… Shhhh…"

"MYCROFT!" Allistair came running into the room. Mycroft thanked the stars for his beloved boyfriend.

"Sherlock… Look at me, Sherlock listen to me," he took the wounded detective from his distraught older brother, and held him.

"I… I… I.." he couldn't breathe, he was shaking so hard, dots forming in front of his face.

"Here," Mycroft gently ook him back from the psychologist, rocking his baby, his Sherlock.

"Shhhh, shhh, baba I have you, hush now… I wont let them hurt you, I wont let the East Wind get you," tears streamed down Mycroft's face, and he kissed Sherlock on the forehead.


	13. Out of Hiding

**Out of Hiding **

Mycroft laid on the cold floor of the master bathroom. His jacket and tie were of, and his hair smelled of vomit. Sherlock was pressed against him, shirtless, and in a bath robe.

"Mikey what happened?" a soft voice asked, he sounded like he was five again.

"Too soon, baba it was too bloody soon," the elder murmured, holding him tightly.

"I threw up…" Mycroft rubbed his head gently, like when had been detoxing all those years ago.

"Yes, on me Sherly.. Well mostly all of the lot of the backseat of the car." The elder heard soft feet padding on the floorboards outside, and Alistair entered with tea and biscuits. Slowly he set the tea things down and joined the brothers on the floor.

"Stop being such an amazing carer," Mycroft whispered, gratefully accepting the tea. The psychologist smiled, gently holding Sherlock's hand.

"Its my lot in life, carn't be helped…" he glanced at his pocket watch taking Sherlock's pulse.

"That's a boy, shall we have a feed now… Yeah," Alistair cradled Sherlock in one arm a biscuit in the other hand, Mycroft slept on the floor next to the pair.

"That's it, there we go…" Sherlock nuzzled him, his senses a bit mad now with the after shock of the attack.

Now then, shall we go get bunny for Mycroft?" the psychologist grinned, causing Sherlock to giggle.

"OK then,"

Mycroft woke up to the sound of his former lover's voice reading to Sherlock. There was a fresh set of flowers in the vase, and a small creature in his arms. He looks up to see Sherlock's head in his former lover's lap and the therapist reading Sherlock's favorite bed time story.

"His fever broke,"

"Yes, he wanted the bunny story, and some cake. I said on the condition he doesn't vomit," Mycroft grinned, Alistair had been so wonderful with his baby brother when they were at Uni. He had come in from shopping to him singing to Sherlock after school one day, and the poor thing had wanted to rest. Mycroft had learned that day that he must share the most precious ting in his life with the man he loved.

He left them to cuddle and he went to find Greg. It was now or never. Gre was in the sitting room working on some paper work swa his lover and grinned.

"You OK, sweetheart?"

"Greg… I have an eating disorder," the DI stood pulling Mycroft into his arms, and oholding him close, gently swaying back and forth. He had known something was up.

"Thank you for being honest with me, Mikey…"

"I…"

"I will help you, please let me help you…"


	14. Its a Disease

**It's a Disease **

Sherlock leaned against the tube, he was hoping what he was deducing wouldn't be; that it was all just some mistake.

"He's sick again," he muttered to Alistair not bothering to look up.

"Sher listen to me-"

"Just TELL me," he turned his face harshly towards his brother's ex.

"Sherlock," John stood in the doorway, he stepped in and sat down next to his friend.

"Listen to us, please…" he slide an arm round Sherlock, the detective putting his head in John's lap.

"John…"

"It's a disease Sherly, OK… He cannot help it, it's a disease. It is a sickness and he needs our support and love to heal. OK, shhhh, shhhhh…" Sherlock looked uncomfortable and upset. Alistair began to run a warm bath, leaving the pair alone.

"Here we go, that's it.." gently pulling Sherlock up by his under arms, he sat him on the rim of the tube. On impulse, Sherlock pulled John close, kissing him on the forehead.

"Hello, to you to," John whispered to his friend putting a han under his chin. He gently, minding the incision laid Sherlock in the bath.

"Mycroft got us some La Mer and Harrod's, nice touch.." John grinned. He never considered his friend to be 'rich' or anything but given that they were in a seventeen room manor with stables and avineyard it would be the case.

"Am I sick too?" Sherlock asked, John heard the voice of an uncertain chid, asking if he was always going to be weird.

"No, absolutely not, you're just shaken up a bit. We're all here to help you get better OK.."

After a hot bath, and fresh pj's John let him alone. Everything was hitting him all at once aand it was overwhelming for the detective.

"Sher," Alistair entered, behind him a frail looking Mycroft. Sherlock in his state ran to his big brother.

"Come now, baba shhhh, shhhsshhhhh… Im alright, see. Im going to be fine Sherly, its all OK."

"I… I…"

:Everything is alright now, I promise."

"But…"

"Shhhh, Alistair is a wonderful carer and he is here for us," Mycroft before anyone could protest, scooped the sickly form into his arms.

"My,"

"Yes baba…" he began stroking Sherlock's head. Greg pulled the covers up over them, and John turned the light off.

"Did you save me?"

"Yes, yes baba I did. I couldn't tell you about Moriarty then because it was not confirmed by my people."

"Remember what I told you when you were five?"

"I'd die without you," Mycroft smiled in the abyss of darkness, pulling his baby brother up on his chest.


	15. True Love Never Dies

**True Love Never Dies**

Mycroft awoke to the sound of dripping next to him. Then there was a cold flannel run over his forehead. He could feel the IV in his hand, Alistair again.

"Baba, what are you doing?" he asked amused slightly. Sherlock looked up and gently continued his work.

"Its my turn now," Mycroft raised an eyebrow slightly, and shook his head.

"Sher, there's tea in the kitchen, and a hot water bottle bring it here, will you Love." Allistair stood in the doorway. Sherlock nodded.

"I wont be long, Mikey," he pressed a gentle kiss to Mycroft's cheek.

"I'm so cold," Mycroft hadn't realized he was whispering, his voice too weak to speak.

"Shhh, John is bilding us a fire," the psychologist whispered, John looked over at the and gave Mycroft a brave smile.

"Tea's on the counter, dinner's in the oven, and I sent the staff all home early," Sherlock looked up from his phone.

"Let me guess, you did the washing up of the cooking pots, cleaned my room, and rearranged the books?"

"Yes, Love I did," Sherlock shook his head. The psychologist proceeded to bring dinner in on a tray, with Mycroft's anti-depressants. Sherlock followed behind him, thing to admit that he needed help.

"We brought supper," the former lover sat on the bed gently, the British Government smiled weakly.

"Come here, Baba," Sherlock neatly fit himself into the brook of Mycroft's arms.

"Its going to take both of us," Alistair whispered, Sherlock nodded. Sherlock knew eating disorders at thi level needed to be spoon fed, and given extra support at food related events.

"There we are," Sherlock settled in, focusing on the therapist's soft voice, feeding his big brother. The younger held his hand gently, giving him much needed family healing as Alistair called it. Between them it was working and Sherlock was grateful.


	16. Author NoteNEW STOREY

I never do self-promotion but there is no category for it so I am promoting myself. I am working on a fanfic for the new Casey Affleck movie Manchester by the Sea.

Please R/R if you have seen the movie

Xoxoxo 3

Depp1987


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